


Mekhanik

by orphan_account



Series: Warmth (Smutty WinterIron) [10]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst and Porn, Cunnilingus, Dubious Consent, F/M, Female Tony Stark, Hidden Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Hydra (Marvel), Mechanic Tony Stark, Peggy Carter is Tony Stark's Godparent, Porn With Plot, Possessive Behavior, Pre-Iron Man 1, Protective Natasha Romanov, Protective Peggy Carter, Red Room (Marvel), Rescue Missions, SHIELD, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes, Winter Soldier Tony Stark, super solider Tony Stark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:01:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23380606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: The Soldat knew there was something special about the Mekhanik the first time he saw her.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Tony Stark
Series: Warmth (Smutty WinterIron) [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1470242
Comments: 12
Kudos: 400





	Mekhanik

**Author's Note:**

> This was going to be WAY longer, like spanning up to The Winter Soldier, but I haven't touched this piece in months and know I won't get that far so I'm posting it as it's to a point that I'm happy doing so.
> 
> The two would get their happy ending though.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Hope everyone is staying safe!

"Do you know who this is Antonia?"

Toni glanced up at the new person, a man who had to have been standing in the shadowed corner—it was more alarming to her that she hadn't even realised he was there.

"No." She answered through gritted teeth. Her captor tugged her hair, forcing her head to turn to look at the man. Mostly against her preservation instinct, she added: "All muzzled guys look the same to me. No offense of course."

Her captor laughed and pulled her to her feet. Toni let out a cry, her hair pulling at her roots. She squeezed her eyes closed as they burned with tears as she was forced to put pressure on her leg—possible broken leg. The hand in her hair gripped her chin instead, and nails dug in.

"I'm really going to enjoy this." The man turned her head back to the dark-haired figure, whose blue eyes hadn't moved from Toni, finally flickered to the man.

"This is the man that killed your parents."

Toni swallowed, exhaling sharply through her noses. "How much to kill you next?"

"So much snark." The man laughed. "I hear he used to be like that too."

He chucked her, sending Toni sprawling to the ground with a grunt at the force. Toni glanced up in time to see the man pat the solidly built man on what looked like metal armour on his left arm.

She scrambled backwards until her back hit the wall, pulling her legs to her chest; the silent man's gaze refocused on her like a physical weight. She bowed her head and refused to meet his eyes.

"Ensure our future Mekhanik doesn't try anything stupid, Soldat." The man left, footsteps fading the further he got.

In the wake of her captor's departure, it left her in a pitch-black cell again, the silence left a ringing in her ears, made the hairs on her arms stand and fingers tremble.

It was only when fingers brushed against the apple of her cheek that she emitted a strangled yelp, flinching away with a harsh scared breath. When she tried to scoot away, a hand of metal wrapped around her wrist, pulling her back.

She whimpered, quivering as she collided against a firmly built chest. Another hand wrapped around her waist, keeping her snuggly against him as the metal one reached up and began to—

_ Pet her? _

Didn't stop the quivering, in fact, it made it worse because the man that had killed her parents was petting her.

* * *

She was quite a small lithe thing with eyes that watched, a mouth that could easily outwit another, and intelligence that HYDRA salivated over.

Antonia Stark, daughter to Howard Stark, a previous Mark of his.

Daughter to Maria Stark, deceased.

No witnesses should be allowed to live after all, and she had been in the car that night.

Antonia, from what he had listened to his Handlers sing praises about, was a prodigy. Age fifteen and already creating advanced robots. Already studying physics, Mekhanikal engineering and electrical engineering at M.I.T, a well-renowned university. She had built her first circuit board at four, at eight she built a motorbike engine. Recently she had just won the 4th Annual M.I.T Robot Design Award.

The Soldat could not deny he was most fascinated by Antonia Stark—she would make a fine companion, a partner—someone of equal footing with himself. He wondered if that was his Handlers plan.

They had already started referring to her as the Mekhanik. Much like to them, he was the Soldat.

She was to assist HYDRA with anything technical—likely that would include his arm's maintenance also.

He hated maintenance—but he was conflicted, the idea that perhaps the Mekhanik's work would surpass the technicians intrigued him.

* * *

Of course, his Mekhanik would not just roll over and accept her fate. But first, it seemed, their Handlers wished to use some of the serum he had stolen from Howard Stark on his daughter.

There were other subjects—volunteers from HYDRA themselves. All eager to willingly aid in any way possible.

He watched as the Mekhanik fought against the agents holding her even with her injured leg. They strapped her down and the doctors began their examination, ignoring the Mekhaniks hisses to not touch her.

There was fear in her eyes.

She did not like touch.

And not just from him or anyone else with HYDRA. He had been watching the Stark household for a while before he had been ordered to kill his Mark. He had spent his time alternating between Howard and his daughter. The Mekhanik only allowed a few close enough for physical touch. Edwin Jarvis, the Stark household butler, the man's wife, Ana Jarvis, and her roommate at M.I.T James Rhodes.

The Soldat watched on silently as his primary Handler explained just what was going to happen to the Mekhanik.

* * *

She was returned to the room pale, exhausted, and drenched.

She more was receptive to the petting this time.

* * *

The Soldat knew his Handlers wished to break the Mekhanik before they took her to the Chair or give her the serum. So more often than not, she was returned in varying states of consciousness and bruised and bloodied.

She crawled into his lap now, seeking comfort, even if it was from him.

He was most happy—if what he felt was happiness—he knew it would happen eventually. If he showed her kindness, the only one to do so, she would seek him out, even if she did not like him.

Yet.

* * *

She was curled up in the corner of the room.

It had been three days since he had last seen her. He had been called out for a mission, for the assassination of a man.

Absently, the Soldat noted the door had been closed behind him.

The Mekhanik peered up at him from behind her arms that were crossed over her knees. She stared, wide-eyed before she scrambled to her feet, knees nearly buckling before she threw herself at him, arms wrapping around him.

He returned the hug, arms quickly shifting to lift her up off the ground. Her legs wrapped around his waist as she seemingly tried to merge with him.

He cooed softly, nuzzling his nose into her scalp. She whined softly, a sound that a baseline human wouldn't pick up. He tightened his grip.

"You were gone." She whispered, pulling back just enough to peer up at him through her thick lashes with wide eyes.

"I will return." He hummed quietly and sat on the cot they shared. He was quite alright with sharing and he made sure she didn't get ill from the cold that could plague the room.

* * *

He could hear her scream; she screamed herself hoarse.

Today was the day his Handlers deemed the Mekhanik ready.

They would not be programming trigger words, but instead just wiping her clean. She was not going out in the field—at least not often anyway. So, they cared not.

The Soldat wondered if it would come around to bite them in the future.

His Mekhanik was a very intelligent woman after all.

She was returned, hours later, with glazed over eyes and with a pale and sweaty face. As soon as the agents released her, she dropped to her knees.

The Soldat stood still until the door was closed where he broke his stiff form to crouch beside her, pulling his Mekhanik into his lap. She flinched, trembling in his arms but said nothing, made no sound.

He ran his fingers through her hair, gently pressing her head against his chest as he started petting her. She slumped against him only moments later and she whimpered, weakly grasping at his shirt.

* * *

His Mekhanik was allowed to fiddle with his arm for the first time.

She was giving access to a lab with all the tool she could ever need.

The Soldat liked the way her eyes lit up at the sight of the room.

She had no problem doing as their Handlers ordered—she enjoyed it.

The arm hurt less now.

* * *

They would be contracted out on loan to an organization called the Red Room.

He was to teach the girls how to fight.

He was to teach his Mekhanik while she was also to learn from the tutors there.

* * *

His Mekhanik had become skittish in some ways—she didn't break easily, her torture by their Handlers had made sure of that, but she was wary and cautious; watching her surrounds closely for even a hint of something.

He wanted to coo at her because despite that, she had retained her chatty attitude when she got fascinated by something. However, she was far more reserved—she spoke rarely to new people, politely to those that needed it and lingered in the shadows more often.

She took even the Widow tutors by surprise at her ability to vanish in plain sight or blend in, to a terrifying degree.

* * *

"I am the Mekhanik."

The Soldat watched from the doorway, curious about the acquaintance his Mekhanik had seemed to make inquisitive. The red-haired girl was no older than his Mekhanik.

Natalia if he recalled correctly. A very promising trainee from what he had witnessed.

Natalia tilted her head. "And where did you come from?"

The Mekhanik blinked, tilting her own head with a look of confusion. "Come from?" She blinked again. "I… do not understand."

Before Natalie could open her mouth to question further, the Soldat rounded the corner. This conversation would do his Mekhanik no good.

"Mekhanik." He called, making sure to keep his tone even, as to not express his anger at the Widow trainee.

His Mekhanik and Natalie turned. His Mekhanik smiled, oblivious to his purposeful interruption. "Soldat."

He held his hand out, and without further prompting slipped her hand in his. "We have a session starting soon."

Not necessarily a lie, just not for another half an hour.

As they turned, his Mekhanik humming quietly to herself, the Soldat turned and stared Natalie until she backed down, eyes dropping to the floor.

* * *

His Mekhanik panted, pushing herself into a sitting position. He had taken her down again. She was improving, but it would be a while before she was anywhere near his own skill level, but she did well for a baseline human.

(Baseline for now.)

She matched well against the other trainees.

She climbed to her feet and caught the bottle he threw her way. "Drink."

His Mekhanik nodded and did as he said. He watched as her lips curved around the lip of the bottle. The Soldat couldn't withhold the way his body tensed—strung tighter than a bowstring as he watched, entranced by the way a few droplets of water escaped from the corner of his Mekhanik's mouth, and then, oh so slowly, began cascading down her chin and tricked down her throat.

* * *

Her head hit the wall, exposing her neck and he used the chance to delve in. She gasped, arching her back and pressing into him more. His grip tightened on her hips as her own grappled to find purchase on his shoulders.

He rolled his hips as he slipped a leg between hers and pressed it up into her. She nibbled on his shoulder to muffle her moans.

He lifted her up until her toes barely brushed the floor, and watched as she gasped, whimpered, and moaned as she tried to find leverage but only succeeded in grinding against him.

He pulled back and met her eyes. Her face was flush, and her pupils blown wide. Her hands tangled in his hair and tugged him down and he went. The kiss was all teeth and bite, and he pulled happy whimpers from his Mekhanik.

"Ah—Soldat." He licked at her lips and she obediently opened for him.

The Soldat knew he could continue to just rut against her and bring them both release like that, but it wouldn't bring him _satisfaction_. So, with a flurry of movement, he slipped his fingers into her shorts and underwear and shoved them down.

His Mekhanik shimmed to assist with the removal of them, her lips finding his neck to nibble at as he made swift work of her clothes.

He pulled back, shushing his Mekhanik when she whimpered at the separation, to admire her body before dropping to his knees, lifting a leg over his shoulder—of which got a startled gasp from her—and delved in.

His Mekhanik choked, slapping a hand over her mouth as she ground against his mouth. Her spare hand found its way into his hair, he groaned happily as she pulled.

Standing up again, bring her left leg over his other shoulder as he did, was easy and he watched—quite gleefully—as she was forced to muffle herself. They had neighbours nearby, after all; the walls of this large manor-like building were thinner than most thought, and they did not want any unwanted attention.

With his prosthetic supporting his Mekhanik's back, his flesh fingers were free and so he pressed a finger in as he focused on her clit, quickly adding a second as she quivered.

Deep-seated satisfaction crawled up his spine as his Mekhanik was forced to shove her shirt into her mouth to mute herself.

He curled his fingers, rubbing and grinding them against her walls, her eyes watered as they clamped down on them. Her legs quivered uncontrollably as she came; her happy little sob was muffled by her shirt.

He lowered her to his waist, and pulled the fabric free, only to capture her mouth with an all-consuming kiss. She moaned happily as she returned the harsh kiss.

* * *

The Soldat did not know how to define what it is exactly between them; all he knows is that it was mutual, a burning sensation that left desires to touch and cuddle, shield and protect. He had had them for years, perhaps even from the moment he had first lay his eyes on his Mekhanik.

He did not care much to define the feeling either—it didn't matter to them, their lingering touches, shared looks, and moments of passion were all they had to their names.

It was harder to keep between them when they return to HYDRA, however they manage—but then.

But then, 2005, September 26th.

They are out on a mission together. The assassination of a scientist.

The mission was going as planned, but then—

Familiar red hair, a familiar fighting style.

His Mekhanik is confused at the sight of Natalia, perhaps what the Soldat might believe to be betrayal from her too—something that stemmed from her confusion at the Black Widow’s reasoning to protect the man.

But the problem is: his Mekhanik gets taken out by another, one they hadn’t accounted for—an archer and he could not reach her quick enough before the Archer gets to her.

He gets his retaliation by shooting Natalia. She would live, but she would always remember exactly what she’d done.

* * *

The sound of heels with a stride of determination made the SHIELD agents all move out of the way for Peggy Carter—her stern and tight jaw also gave the agents the feeling she was not to be trifled with.

It was true, but she was also internally troubled.

Because her goddaughter had been _found_.

Her beautiful and wonderful—more of her own daughter than anything—goddaughter, Antonia Stark.

Peggy swiped her card and stepped into the room, eyes immediately finding the glass window that on the other side held Toni. She was huddled up in the corner, knees to her chest, face partly hidden as she stared at the one-way window, eyes knowing and cold and it makes Peggy’s heart _hurt_.

She stepped up to the glass, just to observe her.

“She hasn’t said anything.” Fury commented from where he was leant back against the desk after a moment of silence. “We’ve got an idea of what happened from Natasha’s word. Whatever organisation had Stark is worst than whatever happened in the Red Room.”

Peggy had seen a lot during her life, but nothing hurt her more than this moment because she _failed_ Toni. Failed to keep her safe.

Peggy gave an exhausted sigh. Thoughts wondering to Edwin. She had gotten off the phone with Edwin moments before she had left to come here. She’d be crying too if she had the moment to sit down and do so. When she and Dum Dum did, they would, but they made more important things to worry about at the moment.

“I want to go in.”

“I would advise against it, but I doubt you’ll have any of it.” Fury shrugged and gestured to the door.

It hissed open as she stepped up to it and she watched as Toni’s eyes were immediately on her, it was like she was staring into her very soul, like she knew every little thing about her.

“Hello.”

Toni said nothing, but there was a twitch of her brows.

“I was told that you don’t remember anything before—“ She chokes a little. “But my names Peggy, your’s is Antonia, but you liked Toni.”

Toni exhaled, no blink, not even a twitch.

“I’m you godmother.”

A blink, confusion whirled in her eyes.

It was the start.

A _wonderful_ start.


End file.
